


An Evening With Music and Peril

by Serenade



Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: Concerts, Gen, Hidden Depths, Magic Mirrors, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: Flora hosts an event. It proves more eventful than planned.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	An Evening With Music and Peril

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueorangecrush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueorangecrush/gifts).



The clock chimed midnight at Castle Amber. I was supposed to be hosting a glittering soiree, the after party of a spectacular concert, and perhaps getting to know the very handsome principal dancer a little better.

I was not supposed to be crouched in the catacombs below the castle, my evening gown somehow both drenched and charred, carrying along the unconscious dead weight of said dancer.

I wasn't sure who to blame yet, but I was making a list.

***

The evening had started well enough. There was a visiting theatrical troupe, famed in the Golden Circle, whose services I was able to secure. I had arranged a tour of the castle grounds and a performance in honour of the queen.

I consider it my privilege to be a patron of the arts. I have been admired for my impeccable taste. Alas that Amber prizes the martial over the creative. It has been an uphill battle to encourage a wider repertoire: something more highbrow than the comedy of Droppa MaPantz, and less stale than the Ballad of the Water Crossers.

The Great Hall was filled with lords and ladies, poets and artists. The dais had been converted to a stage, shared by the choir of singers, the band of musicians, and company of dancers. It was the story of the Swan Prince, doomed to live as neither human nor swan, only something in between. The principal dancer, Altos, possessed extraordinary talent and exquisite grace. Dancing across a lake of ice, beneath a sky of fire. I exhaled deeply as the music swelled. These immortal moments made it all worth it.

I was pleased to see the audience was equally enthralled. Vialle tapped her slender fingers along to the music, while her lady in waiting quietly narrated the action. Martin leaned forward, clearly engaged, despite his preference for music with electronics.

Partway through the first act, Merlin edged into the room. He made a beeline for us. "Nobody panic," he announced. His cloak was faintly smouldering. "Has anyone seen some kind of glowing bird come this way?"

"Merlin," I said, smiling through gritted teeth. "Can this wait?"

He shook his head. "Something came out of the Corridor of Mirrors. Several somethings. They shouldn't have been able to do that. We're trying to track them all down." He glanced around the Great Hall, no glowing birds in sight. "I guess I can cross this room off the list?"

"Yes, you can," I said emphatically. "Good luck."

***

Half an hour later, when a shimmering winged shape rose through the mirror that was the lake of ice, it seemed like a very impressive special effect. When three more winged shapes emerged, and the swan dancers fled off stage, the audience realised it was not part of the performance. Chaos ensued. Champagne spilled and chairs tipped, Martin leapt up to escort Vialle to safety, and the castle guards rushed in to protect everyone. Merlin was summoned to come deal with this magical disturbance.

That was when I discovered we were missing a dancer.

***

I followed the trail of feathers, down the spiral staircase, to the dungeon level. Altos was slumped against a wall, his swan prince costume looking the worse for wear, the mirror beast looming over him possessively. It was the height of a man, its silver body shimmering, like ripples on water. In addition to the wings, it was fanged and clawed, like the chimera of a chicken and a crocodile. A most unpleasant combination.

I am not a warrior like Benedict, or a sorceress like Fiona. By the time you're at the swords drawn stage, things have already gone to hell in a handbasket. My philosophy is to never let things get that far in the first place. Normally, I'm well prepared. My various residences are defended by the protections I have set up over the years. My home is my castle.

Castle Amber, on the other hand, is not _my_ castle. I've never needed to worry about preparing defences there. That's somebody else's responsibility. Anything bad enough to get past our armies and our wards is not something my little tools can handle. Besides, the most dangerous threats have come from inside the house, in the form of ambitious Amberites.

So here I was, without my wolfhounds or my grenades, or any of my typical protections. Fortunately, I never go anywhere without my favourite shoes.

I hurled the first stiletto heel at the mirror beast. The hidden spike took it in the neck, and it growled, turning to face the new threat.

"That's right," I said. "Look at me."

I wished Altos would take the chance to scramble away, maybe go for help, but he seemed to be out cold. I wondered what the hell I was doing. Rescuing people was not my job. Where was everyone? How many mirror beasts could there be loose upstairs?

I slipped off my other stiletto heel. Alas that I only had two feet. "Come on. You don't want him."

It shook the spike from its neck, and rushed me. I feinted a throw, and it dodged left. I seized the torch from the wall bracket and shoved the flaming end into its face. The other shoe, naturally, dropped.

While the mirror beast roared in pain and surprise, I dove past to grab Altos and drag him up the tunnel.

***

The tour had not included this part of the castle. The stones were damp and cold and slimy. Not a pleasant place to walk barefoot. At one point, I had to wade through a storm channel. In other circumstances, I would shift Shadow to reattire myself, but not this deep inside Amber itself.

Altos stirred awake at last, blinking his dark lashed eyes. "Your Highness? What happened?"

"There was a creature--" I began, and then skipped over the middle--"and it's back."

The mirror beast hissed as it stalked down the tunnel, singed and angry. We retreated back through another storm channel, which gave us the flimsy psychological barrier of a moat. The mirror beast had wings, after all.

"You don't have any more weapons, Your Highness?" Altos ventured.

"I could stab it with a hairpin," I said tersely. "But that might just make it angry. Angrier. You're welcome to try if you like."

Then it occurred to me. If this creature had come out of the Corridor of Mirrors, maybe it could go back into a reflection. All we had to do was lure it there.

It would be a disaster if one of our invited performers met with an untimely fate on my watch. I sighed. I like to be prepared and I hate to improvise. But I am Amberite enough to know the last resort is me.

"What are you doing?" Altos said in alarm, as I stepped forward.

"Please create a distraction."

He raised an eyebrow, but got to his feet gamely. He began to dance, arms sweeping his feathered sleeves in great circles, leaping as though in flight. It was rather a distraction for me as well. I shook myself out of enchantment, and stepped into the storm channel. The mirror beast turned its head to watch us both, not so foolish as to lose sight of who had wounded it.

I took my compact out of my sleeve. The powder was soaked, but the mirror was bright. The mirror beast flinched when I bounced the torchlight across its eyes. That was enough. It lunged for me, clawed hands grasping. As it swooped low, I pushed the mirror against its chest. If this failed, it would be a ridiculous way to die.

Silver light shone, flared, died.

The water went still. No sign of the mirror beast. I snapped the compact shut, breathing hard.

"You destroyed it," Altos said, in a stunned voice.

"I doubt that." Someone was going to have to figure out how to stop those mirror beasts from coming back. But that someone didn't have to be me.

A sorcerous light floated down the tunnel. "Aunt Flora?" Merlin called, following behind the light. He stared at us both with astonishment and some consternation. "Are you all right?"

If he had come down here, they must have matters under control by now. Maybe something of the evening could be salvaged. I smoothed back my hair. "What took you so long?"


End file.
